One summer a long time ago, the seven sacred council fires of the Lakota Sioux came together and camped. The sun was strong and the people were starving for there was no game.

Two young men went out to hunt. Along the way, the two men met a beautiful young woman dressed in white who floated as she walked. One man had bad desires for the woman and tried to touch her, but was consumed by a cloud and turned into a pile of bones.

The woman spoke to the second young man and said, "Return to your people and tell them I am coming." This holy woman brought a wrapped bundle to the people. She unwrapped the bundle giving to the people a sacred pipe and teaching them how to use it to pray. "With this holy pipe, you will walk like a living prayer," she said. The holy woman told the Sioux about the value of the buffalo, the women and the children. "You are from Mother Earth," she told the women, "What you are doing is as great as the warriors do."

Before she left, she told the people she would return. As she walked away, she rolled over four times, turning into a white female buffalo calf. It is said after that day the Lakota honored their pipe, and buffalo were plentiful.

The white buffalo is a sacred animal to many tribes in this country. The birth of one is hailed as a miracle and is thought to be a harbinger of good news and prosperity. A coming together of mankind in peace and harmony.

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The X-files did an episode in which it referenced the white buffalo. I don't know if you're a fan but that show is the best show in the history of TV.

Anyway, I'm part Indian and I love to hear old stories that are deep in complexity yet simple and serene. Only the Native American Culture can bring the two together to form a lasting understanding of such events.

Ever been to New Mexico, home to the Pueblo Indians, Apache and nearly every Indian creed in the US. I’m lucky to live in a great historical city like Las Cruces and to be surrounded by so many different cultures.

Also since I’m mentioning my city I guess I can mention that one of the only reasons that I’m alive today is because Pancho Villa chose two out of three people to be hanged in the war and the one he decided not to kill was my great, great, great grandpa, who happened to be of German decent. Strange world? It’s even referenced in the book El Paso